


All Blood Flows Red

by Flakeblood



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Family, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, I couldn't stop myself, Isaac Week 2019, Isaac is trying to be a good friend, Mentions of Past Slavery, Necromancy, Only for last chapter, Ruminating about death, Self-Reflection, Teaching, There's corpses y'all you know for necromancy, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-05 16:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17922401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flakeblood/pseuds/Flakeblood
Summary: Reflections on Isaac from the Netflix series. His past, his ideals, his relationships, and what makes him who he is.Written for Isaac Week 2019.





	1. Day 1: Meeting Dracula

**Author's Note:**

> Am I still writing other stuff? Yes. Could I pass up an opportunity to figure out a difficult character to write? Absolutely not.

Blood. Pain.

These two things were the only consistent themes in Isaac's life. The things he had known, with absolute, grim certainty, would always come back to him. They were things he could not control. He hated things he could not control; He hated the situation he was in.

Killing his former master had been a necessity, he knew that now. At the time, he had only known his own pain, and his sudden, fierce desire to escape by any means. He had acted on instinct, and he did not regret plunging his thumbs into the eyes of the man who had hurt him to control him.

Reflection had brought him clarity. There was no such thing as love, only desperate hopes and fruitless dreams which bound people. Whatever "love" Isaac had felt for his master was nothing more than a trick of his mind, to make sense of the man's cruelty.

But no longer. He had taken back his control. Or at least, he had thought so.

Isaac had little combat experience; No one wanted to teach a slave, no matter that he had fled to other towns and they shouldn't have known. Even the others on the streets shied away from him. It must have been the look in his eyes.

Thus his current situation, stuck in the small alleys between old, leaning buildings, brigand magicians before and behind him. Everything in his vision seemed to be some shade of red. The crimson rays of the setting sun, peeking around the corner; The deep scarlet of the braiding on their weapons, proclaiming their loyalty to black market dealers; The dusting of rose gold sand beneath their feet; And especially Isaac's blood, dripping down one arm to plop silently onto the ground.

He would die. It was inevitable. With little skill and no help, the magicians would easily take him. And again, his world would be nothing but pain and blood, until he died.

Perhaps that was all there was in the world. Then, it was no wonder such a thing as love could not exist there.

One man in front of him moved forward, blocking his view of any remaining light. Isaac brought up his one good hand, clenched into a fist, for all the good it would do him. But whether or not he struggled was his choice, and so he would make it.

With a whoosh of movement, the magician's shadow shifted unnaturally, and he opened his mouth only to cough up blood. Time froze.

The shadow, Isaac now saw, was a man. Or perhaps, a spirit.

He was tall and broad, cloaked in black, but his skin had no color to it, like he formed from ivory. His hair--long on top, accompanied by a small moustache and beard--lay lank and flat as wheat stalks. Pointed ears peeked from beneath it. Certainly, he was not living.

When the brigands got over their surprise, they charged the ghostly man. One by one, they fell, arcs of blood following as the spirit tore them apart with long, claw-like fingernails. Isaac watched in fascination as their throats were torn out, their eyes gouged, their chests run through, and felt... nothing.

No, his feeling was something, but he did not recognize it. His fear and worry, oddly enough, were gone. Even as the last magician alive grabbed him from behind, Isaac's heart only jolted once.

"Stay where you are, monster!" the magician screamed.

The spirit locked eyes with Isaac, covered in the blood of his enemies, and disappeared. Before he could feel his surprise fully morph into disappointment, the man holding him made a gurgling sound. Something wet and warm dripped onto Isaac's shoulder, and then he was dropped to the ground.

He touched the spot. It smelled like iron.

Turning, he saw the last brigand, head separated from his neck, crumple. Silent, the spirit stood, taller than any man Isaac had seen, with sharp fangs bared as he sighed. When the spirit moved, Isaac did not.

The silence within his body seemed so familiar, despite the fact he'd never felt it before.

Pale hands, deceptively delicate, reached for him. Nails scraped just barely along the right side of Isaac's head, and he heard a gentle rasp from their contact with his short growth of hair. He looked up and saw eyes as red as the blood covering the spirit's face, curiosity in their depths.

Isaac stood, and the spirit's hand moved down.

"Why are you so still, with so much death around you?" the spirit murmured, nails tracing along Isaac's neck.

Acceptance, Isaac realized. That was the feeling stilling his heart and steadying his gaze. He had seen the emotion in some of the dead, those few who knew of the inevitability of their end, as Isaac did. What a beautiful feeling.

"I have no fear of death," Isaac said, looking up. This red, he thought, he did not mind seeing before he died. "It always sounded peaceful to me."

So when the unearthly man pulled away, beckoning him, Isaac chose to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going all the way until March 3 with this.  
> Please let me know your thoughts! Since this is a challenge, I'm not spending much time editing, so hearing from y'all would be super helpful. ^^


	2. Day 2: Combat/Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't choose between prompts, so I did both?

Glinting in the moonlight, Isaac's knife swept across his field of vision, patterns varied and ever changing. But always, they were controlled.

Isaac had grown used to learning and traveling in the evenings and night. It was not difficult for him; He preferred the cooler temperatures anyway. The most important thing, however, was that Dracula could only travel in the night. And so, Isaac would as well.

He felt Dracula's gaze on him as he moved, but did not allow himself to become distracted. Stances led him through imaginary strikes, blocks, dodges, reversals and counter attacks, everything he memorized from Dracula's lessons.

_"Fighting is not simply a manner of survival. There can also be an enjoyment in honing the body, and the understanding of your own capabilities."_

Isaac found joy in the burning of his muscles, the slight breezes against his sweat slicked skin, and the ability to act on his knowledge in such a physical way. When he moved, even as his body reacted quickly and with desperation, he felt his mind center. His spirit was quiet, and he found a temporary sort of peace.

After his self-prompted practice finished, when the moon proclaimed half an hour to have passed, Isaac sat. A water skin appeared in front of him, held in one clawed hand.

"Thank you," Isaac said. The water was warm, but it soothed his throat.

"You have paid close attention to my instruction." Dracula spoke with measured grace, every bit an opposition to the fierce warlord Isaac had seen when they first met. Especially now, sitting on the sand beside him, Dracula could seem only a strange traveler.

"Of course." Isaac took slow, deep breaths to bring his body back into tranquility, then spoke again. "You offer me valuable skills. I will work as long as it takes for their expertise."

Though slight, Isaac caught the pleased expression in Dracula's eyes, tilting them up.

"Then, I expect you are not too tired to travel?"

Isaac shook his head and made to get up. Only Dracula raising one hand in a 'wait' gesture stopped him. A small smile tugged at his mouth.

"It was not a suggestion made in seriousness. I plan to leave when the moon is higher."

Isaac settled back down, responding with a smile of his own. "Very well."

"You will be coming with me?"

"Always," he said, just as he did every night.

As Dracula looked at him, Isaac knew he would never be able to fully understand the thoughts in the vampire's mind. As red eyes bored into his own, Isaac wondered, what were the emotions flitting through them? Sadness? Relief? Was he simply pondering, the same as Isaac?

He did not find an answer before Dracula spoke up.

"Then, let us spend this time on another subject. Your skills wielding your knife have improved immensely, but there are weaknesses in using a small weapon that, often, your own body cannot reconcile."

"I have noticed this myself," Isaac thought aloud. "I would have trouble outside of close quarters. Then what would you suggest?"

Their conversation went long into the night, even as they began to travel to the next town. When Dracula suggested a sparring session the next night--in lieu of their usual lesson--Isaac had to swallow down an... overenthusiastic response. He was certain he had not succeeded when his friend's lips turned up at the corners.

Yes. His friend. His mentor. When he had started thinking of the vampire that way, Isaac couldn't recall.

But why shouldn't he? Dracula gave him knowledge, indulged every question, and encouraged him to grow in body and mind. A veritable repository of philosophies and sciences, wisdoms of ages long past, and he spoke to Isaac as an equal, worthy of his time and effort.

The very least Isaac could give his friend in return, he decided, was his loyalty. Dracula gave him reliable knowledge of combat, so Isaac would fight for him.

Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, I wrote about the past again. But it's such an interesting time, don't you think? They're still getting to know each other and Dracula is still happy. Traveling buds! Well, until Drac leaves the area entirely, I guess. Still not sure what happened there, or why he would leave Isaac behind in the desert. :/ I can't imagine Isaac choosing to stay in a place he hated, rather than follow a friend he respects, unless said friend asked to continue alone.
> 
> Again, I'm using these as a way to build up my own headcanons as well as get a better grasp on Isaac's character. So I would love to hear your thoughts. :3


	3. Day 3: Relationships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing un-beta'd and with little to no editing is like getting on a wooden roller-coaster.

"Isaac, this is Hector. He is also a forgemaster here." _And I expect you two to get along_ , was Dracula's unspoken sentiment.

Isaac looked the man up and down. He looked to be around the same age, though the widened, curious blue eyes on the other man lent more innocence to his look. The only thing which contradicted the image was the fact his chin length hair was grayed like an elder's. The man--Hector--was clad in what Isaac assumed to be the uniform he would wear once settled in.

"Isaac. I've heard about you from Master Dracula." With a small but sincere smile, Hector stuck out one hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Isaac looked down, but otherwise did not move. The outstretched hand had obvious callouses on the fingers, making it clear he was used to holding some sort of weapon; That was good. But the gesture itself...

Well, Isaac knew what it was meant for: greetings, closing deals, and establishing people as equals.

For that last reason, Isaac finally reached out his own hand and grasped Hector's. Watching the ridiculous smile grow wider made him wish to retract it. However, he did have one more reason for touching this veritable stranger.

Isaac called some of his own magic to his hand, just enough to prod at the place where he touched Hector. He felt movement as Hector jolted--stuttering a confused "What?"--and tightened his grip in warning. He would not be moved until he was satisfied.

Just when Isaac thought only his own magic would show, red wisps curling from his skin, several small sparks appeared. The blue popped from Hector's skin, always disappearing as soon as it had shown itself, responding almost shyly to the pestering of the red flames. Satisfied, Isaac let go, placing his hands behind his back.

Dracula had one eyebrow raised, just a little, but seemed content to let them interact as they may. Hector had both eyebrows raised, and was clearly more inclined to speak. Gods.

"That was... amazing," Hector said. "I wasn't aware our magic could be used that way. You must have practiced a great deal."

He looked at Isaac with an expectant stare. Surely he wasn't expected to indulge in idle chatter and reminiscing. A side glance at Dracula did not offer any assistance--he raised his cocked eyebrow further in amusement. Isaac took a subtle calming breath.

"I train all my skills with equal sincerity. To do less would be an insult."

Hector nodded, and his mouth pulled into a foolish grin. "Then perhaps I could see your skills sometime? I haven't known of anyone else with magic like ours, and we will be here together."

Spend more time with him? He seemed to want to do nothing but speak. Dracula had called them here for a purpose, and Isaac intended to help him achieve his goals, nothing else. Playing at friendship with another human, even one with similar skills, was not on his agenda. Still, Isaac did not want to be antagonistic to someone he had just met, someone who apparently also held Dracula's trust.

"We shall see."

Mercifully, Dracula stepped in. "I will take you to get settled in, Isaac, and make sure you know of my expectations."

"Of course, Master Dracula."

"Then, I shall take my leave," Hector said. "I look forward to speaking with you again, Isaac."

Isaac was glad Hector turned and left, as he was unsure if he would have been able to give any sort of positive response.

The walk with Dracula was silent, and peaceful, as things always were with his friend. Dracula showed him the forge where he was to work--making sure to ask pertinent questions on the effectiveness of the space--then informed him of his duties and who to speak with to see his needs met. Isaac absorbed all the information and voiced his understanding.

With all important topics discussed, they shared another quiet moment, this time, broken by Isaac.

"It is good to be here, Master Dracula."

Dracula looked at him, eyes steady, but Isaac saw the question in them.

"I would rather be here, helping you, than alone in the heat." _It felt like I was wasting away_ , he didn't say.

Closing the space between them, Dracula said, "And yet, when you met your fellow forgemaster, you looked as though you would rather be anywhere else."

Dracula was teasing, Isaac felt it. Still, a small ball of guilt and shame coiled in his stomach. Hector did not impress him. No one who was so... so naive and trusting and _talkative_ upon first meeting could be someone Isaac would get along with; that was the feeling he got. Even so, he was, as Dracula mentioned, someone Isaac would work alongside. They both offered their skills to Dracula's cause; Not any ordinary person would do so, and even less would be hand-picked by Dracula himself.

Isaac closed his eyes and sighed. "It should not be a problem. We are doing our work separately."

"...Yes." Dracula sounded disappointed, but not surprised. "I suspect he will have a different approach to this relationship than you."

"Our 'relationship' is based on our loyalty to you. We have a common goal, but I will not be asking him to share tea."

Dracula hummed. "And if he brings the tea to you?"

"Would he?" Isaac asked, feeling irritated at the thought of it.

"Perhaps."

"Then I hope he is not as chatty the second time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: Isaac is a fucking hypocrite. x3 C'mon, cut poor Hector some slack. He's just tryin' to be nice. And you realize you talk a lot with Dracula...? Still, it was really fun to write exasperated Isaac, haha.


	4. Day 4: Magic/Necromancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I kinda ended up doing both prompts. I mean, they fit together.

Slowly, but resolutely, Isaac pressed his hand into the open heart, red flames licking up his arm and around the unbeating organ beneath him. A gasp forced the chest to swell before it was forced out in a shrieking, agonized scream.

Isaac held fast. If the body could scream, he had to be doing it properly. 

Life poured into the corpse, bringing mass back into the muscles and skin stitching over or around wounds. Some holes were left to gape open, but the chest began to close, forcing Isaac to remove his hand. Ribs collided and fused, with muscle and skin crawling over them like the tightness of a bloated stomach.

Isaac kept his eyes fixated on the creature, watching as its limbs contorted, bulging and lengthening, and its face gained sharper features until it no longer resembled the human it was born from.

The creature let out a final deafening screech at the stars above, then turned towards its creator.

Isaac stood, but did not back away. He looked the creature in its glaring red eyes, trying to do what he had learned. As the only book in his possession, the stolen tome of dark magicks was the only thing Isaac had to teach him about his newfound skill in necromancy.

His last few trials had been... mostly successful. This time, he was determined to get it right.

As the creature struggled to get up on its new limbs, lurching towards him, Isaac focused all his attention on his will. Heat pounded through every vein in his body. He created this creature, he gave it life, and he would make sure the creature understood; It would carry out his intent, and his only. It would understand loyalty.

Once eye-to-eye, the creature stopped. Isaac reached one bloody hand up, placing it against the rough skin over the heart.

Slowly, the creature bowed its head. A success.

0-o-0

"Isaac?" Hector sounded thoroughly confused as he looked over his shoulder.

"Hector," Isaac greeted. 

The room he stepped into was different than what he had expected. It was higher off the ground, which was immediately obvious by the large windows that made up part of the wall directly opposite of the entrance. The moonlight tinted the entire room in a clear blue, in spite of the candles giving off light from the walls and corners.

"What are you doing here?" Hector asked. His face immediately wrinkled around his brow, and he looked faintly contrite. "That is to say, you- can I help with anything?"

Isaac watched him for a moment, even as he moved his large hammer to one hand so that he could use the other to scratch at the bridge of his nose. Isaac decided to get to the point.

"Dracula has suggested we may work best if we are aware of how the other works, as well." Isaac kept his posture and voice firm.

"Has he?" Isaac looked briefly at the corpse laid out on the table. "I won't say no. I've been curious about how our methods differ myself."

Isaac only hummed, not committing to anything, but it was enough to get a smile out of the other man. What in the world was he smiling for?

"In that case, you got here at a good time." Hector took his hammer in both hands and turned back to the table. "I can go first."

Isaac walked further into the room, placing himself near the foot of the table. The corpse laying there looked little different than the ones Isaac himself worked with. However, the heart was not visible. Aside from some damage to the chest--all of which looked like natural wounds from before death--there was no indication Hector planned to expose the vital organ. Curiosity flowered in Isaac's mind.

Hector closed his eyes and lifted his hammer, his entire demeanor changing with it. A peace stole over his features, one that Isaac immediately recognized from himself when he was casting. The upright hammerhead sparked once, then, from the hand Hector kept perpendicular to it, bright blue magic flowed out, engulfing the tool with writhing light.

When Hector opened his eyes, Isaac's breath caught. The sheer power from the magic pulsed around him, pushing his hair back from his face and revealing his eyes, bright with a fierce determination. Isaac had known the man for a scant few days, but he not seen him with such a level of concentration before. So he did take his craft seriously.

One flourish preceded Hector's strike, and a hollow clang sounded through the room as he struck his hammer against the table. The tool made no contact with the corpse. Isaac narrowed his eyes, watching intently.

Another strike, and Isaac noticed the magic flowing towards the body.

In waves, the magic built up, until the third strike set off a full reaction, warping the corpse and pulling it into its new form. Growls spilled from it as it shifted, but there was no scream. The transition was almost graceful. Soon enough, Hector's new night creature pushed itself up, wobbling for only a moment before taking a wide swipe at Hector.

Isaac watched with interest and only a vague concern. Hector dodged with practiced skill. _His creatures must always wake with those urges_ , Isaac thought. _Why does he indulge them?_

As soon as he finished his thought, the creature stopped, breathing harshly as it finally looked into Hector's eyes. Hector gazed back, and to Isaac's surprise, his eyes softened. His gaze held affection, copied in the gentle hand he placed on the creature's warped face.

Rumbling, the creature settled down.

Hector gave it a scratch along the ear, then jerked and looked at Isaac. He blinked a couple times, seeming surprised to see his fellow forgemaster there for a few moments. Then a wry smile crossed his face. A man with a goofy smile had complete control over his creations; Not only that, but with such an unorthodox method of exerting control. The fact he could calm it with but a touch and a warm smile was... it was-

"Interesting," Isaac said aloud.

Hector chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Not the way you do it?"

"No. But I suppose you will see soon enough."

He turned and exited the room. Hector would follow; Or he wouldn't, and Isaac would get some peace. For a moment, he wondered if he should feel regret over the short way he treated his... not friend. Associate, maybe.

Isaac pushed all those thoughts away. He would not coddle the way Hector did; the other forgemaster did not have to like it, but he would come to understand.

Still, as he heard quick footsteps catching up to him, Isaac felt his stomach settle. Someone who used the magic he did, who commanded loyalty from them with one gentle look, and was devoted to Dracula...

Hector must have understood true loyalty. Isaac had to believe that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, whew, over halfway there. :DD Thank you for pointing out when you think I'm getting Isaac's character right! It's very helpful. I would love to hear more theories, hehe. ☆｡ﾟ+.(人-ω◕ฺ)ﾟ+.ﾟ  
> One of my own I couldn't help throwing in this prompt was the differences between Isaac and Hector's magic/necromancy skills. I think it's really interesting that Isaac dives right in while Hector seems to... throw life at them from a distance? I find it super interesting, and I hope we get to see more of it in season 3!


	5. Day 5: Past/Family

"Most impressive, Isaac." With a careful eye, Dracula looked over the new night creature, his small smile stirring a warmth in Isaac.

Spending time with the vampire lord was the only joy in his life, though using his talents in necromancy magic was quickly becoming one as well. The creature stirred in response to the emotion but was quieted with a glance. "Thank you, Master Dracula."

"And how long did you say you have practiced this?" Dracula tilted his head down, his excessive height meaning Isaac had to look up to meet his gaze.

"I was able to obtain the book about a week after you left," Isaac said, trying to tamp down the pride in his voice. "I have been practicing ever since." 

"Only a month then," Dracula said, voice low as he spoke mostly to himself.

Dracula's latest absence had been one of his most brief. When Isaac had killed a rogue magician who stalked him, he had not expected to find such a rare book. It was fortuitous, as Isaac had already learned a good deal about magic from Dracula and another occultist. With the opportunity to study up on his rare talent for necromancy, it had been as though a fire lit inside him, burning him with desire.

"If you keep practicing the way you have, I've no doubt you will be a true master of this magic," said Dracula.

Isaac squeezed his hands together behind his back, heart fluttering, and turned to his night creature. "You say that, yet you have told me magicians have not been able to forge night creatures for centuries."

"That is true."

"Then how can I be the master of a skill only I possess?" A frown crossed his face, and he looked back at Dracula. "Texts reveal only so much about it. With no one else to measure up to, how can I truly say when I have mastered it?"

Dracula hummed, his eyes crinkling in intrigue. "Well thought out. It is something to consider, yes, but you are not the only one with this skill."

Isaac felt his forehead wrinkle as confusion swirled through him. "I don't understand."

"There is one other who shares your skill. I have met him only recently. Perhaps the both of you could meet sometime, and view each others techniques."

Isaac's frown grew. It was logical, but his mind protested with unusual vehemence. This person--who was not him--had also gained Dracula's trust. Something acidic roiled in his stomach, and his entire face felt unbearably hot. Of course Dracula would meet others while traveling. Of course.

When Isaac felt his nails digging crescents into his palms, he unclenched them to gesture at his creature. The beast took off in a loping gait on four legs, looking like a monstrous ape from a distance.

Dracula hummed again. "Of course, it is only a possibility. Whether the two of you meet in the future will be up to you."

Isaac cleared his throat, feeling chagrined at his unreasonable anger towards a complete stranger. "Someday, then."

Dracula nodded.

Feeling an overwhelming need to change the subject, Isaac asked, "How long will you stay, this time? Are you traveling in the area?"

"Yes. For a week. Lisa showed great interest in some of the rarities here. Surprisingly, she did not ask only for herbs this time." Dracula's smile was contagious, and Isaac felt his shoulders relax.

"Oh? Your beloved wife asking for something that will not go directly into a medicine? To what goes this high honor?"

Dracula chuckled, and again Isaac felt wonderfully warm.

"She seems to have grown a liking for coffee."

"Really." Isaac huffed a laugh. "And I don't suppose it's trading well to your home country."

"Certainly not," Dracula said, tone wry. "Not when the church condemns it as the devil's drink."

Isaac let out hearty laughter, pleased to hear Dracula join him with his more sedate amusement. When Isaac got a hold of himself, a wide smile still plastered to his face, he spoke.

"Then your wife is truly fortunate, to have you to find it for her."

"Yes," Dracula whispered. A softness crept into his tone, one reserved only for her, only for his love. Isaac always felt a sweet pain in his heart upon hearing it, for the deep, pure love Dracula had for his wife, and for the world which would never know its like. "Fortunate that she has a devil to herself." 

Isaac sighed at the amusement hidden in Dracula's voice, but refrained from rolling his eyes.

"One week then?" Isaac confirmed.

"Yes." There was a pause then, as Dracula turned to face him, a seriousness on his face which had Isaac standing taller. "Our offer stands. She would be delighted to meet you."

"I..." Isaac could not hold his gaze, his eyes dragged back to the night creature. It ran back towards them, a hyena dead in its teeth. Isaac said as he always did, "I will think some more on it."

No matter how he hated to disappoint his master, Isaac still could not bring himself to follow him back to his home, his wife, his son, and the simple life they had there. He could not bring death, the way he did while traveling. Not to a place where Lisa was trying so hard to bring healing and life.

"Our door is open, Isaac," Dracula said, then allowed the respite of silence.

Isaac couldn't help but love his mentor for it, any more than he could help wishing for the thing out of his reach. But Isaac had given up on family, had given up on love, long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has been the biggest stretch when it comes to the prompts, but I still think it fits. I just couldn't resist more Dracula and Isaac banter. Also, laughter??? Where did that come from? Holy crap.  
> But I noticed I've been getting more and more sparse with setting descriptions... (〃￣ω￣〃)ゞ Haaaa. Well, the weekend is coming! LET'S GO PEOPLE. Only two more days left!


	6. Day 6: Reflections on Immortality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm posting from my phone. ^^;

Slumped, glassy-eyed, and virtually unresponsive. Isaac's soul burned upon seeing his master in pain. Dracula had loved his wife and child with all his heart, and the world repaid him with death and suffering.

Isaac wished he was able to do more, to support his friend the way he was supported as a child. The man Dracula had been was fading, a fire burned too bright, until only ashes remained.

In that way, it was fitting to find him in his study, staring with despondency at the roaring fireplace.

"Master Dracula," Isaac said. Though he hardly needed to announce his presence, he found it respectful. It gave Dracula a chance to turn him away, should he desire the time alone. Not this time though; One alabaster grey hand waved him forward.

Isaac stepped up to his side and allowed the silence to continue, only punctuated by the cracking of flames.

After several minutes passed, Dracula asked, "Isaac, what have you come for?"

"There is a battle plan which requires your approval," Isaac admitted, "but mostly, I came to see you."

No response came from the vampire. He merely lowered his head, allowing dark strands of hair to fall over his shoulder.

How must it be, Isaac wondered to himself, to be immortal? To watch the ages pass you by, untouched, constantly learning and growing as mortals birthed, lived, and died around you? Isaac's eyes strayed to the family portrait on one wall, lingered on the smile of the man there, and the careful way he held his wife and young child. How odd it must have seemed to be suddenly thrust into such an unfamiliar world.

Sometimes, in past years, Isaac had seen it in him, as they traveled. They would circle back around to a place they had been to several years prior, only to see a change in layout and people.

Isaac was used to the mutability, knew how to look for the few constants and locate what he needed. In those instances, Dracula would follow behind him.

The vampire made no mention of it, but Isaac knew he made careful observations, eyes lingering on where a clothier's had been replaced by a shop of woven baskets and pottery, or a pig pen which had been repurposed into a coop for chickens and other fowl.

A deep frown carved itself onto Isaac's face. Dracula had not even had a chance to understand the fleeting lives of humans--a scant twenty years--before his wife was murdered.

No goodbye could have prepared him, no revenge could soothe his soul. 

The depth of his sorrow was an incredible thing for Isaac to see--incredible yet painful. Every emotion the vampire lord felt was so pure, so strong. It only strengthened his resolve to see Dracula's goal through to the end. At the same time, Isaac feared that sorrow--not for himself, but his master. Dracula was losing energy, and he refused to eat. The other generals noticed, and questioned his decisions. Though he had lost little strength, he did nothing with it.

Isaac would stay by his side, but for how long? Dracula would not change him--and vampirism held little appeal for Isaac besides--but Isaac knew of his limits as a mortal. Only a scant few decades remained for him, if he did not die early.

What good would he do for his friend dead? Would Dracula's heart heal once all other humans were gone?

"What are these plans?" Dracula murmured, tone so flat Isaac wondered if he was even aware he spoke.

"...It can wait, until Hector arrives."

Dracula hummed.

Isaac looked around the room, hoping to find something to distract his friend and possibly engage him in conversation.

"Ah." Isaac waited a moment, hope fluttering his heart when Dracula pulled his gaze over. "I recognize that book. I remember my frustration over learning the intricacies of the human body."

Dracula straightened slightly, eyeing the book himself. The dark blue tome sat on the desk nearby, old and well used, but clearly cared for. "Hmm, yes."

"I suppose I was only ever interested in creatures of the night."

"Yes." Dracula wasn't smiling, but his eyes no longer held such deep loneliness. "Stubborn, in your determination."

Isaac allowed himself a small laugh.

Maybe he couldn't always be there for his friend, but he would do what he could with the time he had. What a human feeling to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this one is getting uploaded on short notice, so I'll look over it tomorrow... I hope.  
> Until then, lemme know what you think! :D
> 
> Update: I looked through and fixed a few grammar problems. ^^


	7. Day 7: Alternate Universe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS, but it exists, and it's what you're gettin! I'm shoving happy at you!

Warm wood and bright colors decorated the open entryway Isaac walked into. Carefully, he set down some of his luggage, rolling his sore shoulders. Vlad--one of his host parents--called out into the rest of the house.

"I'm home, Lisa, Adrian."

A woman with a smile a bright as her hair popped out from around the corner and approached. "Oh! Yes, I'm Lisa Țepeș. It's wonderful to meet you."

"Isaac Laforeze. And you as well, Mrs. Țepeș," said Isaac, taking her hand in a polite shake. She laughed.

"I hope you're able to settle in comfortably," Lisa said. She smiled wider as her husband greeted her with a hug and kiss from behind. "I'm sure your trip was tiring. If you need anything, please let us know."

"Thank you. That is kind."

Lisa looked dwarfed by her husband, almost lost in the folds of his coat. Before they met at the airport, Isaac hadn't known people could be as tall as Vlad Țepeș. Footsteps on the stairs nearby drew his attention, and Isaac looked at the new arrival who--based on the stories Vlad told on the drive--must have been his son.

"Adrian," Vlad greeted, "Come meet Isaac. You remember he'll be staying for the year."

"Of course." Adrian wasn't nearly as tall as his father, but from the slight awkwardness to his limbs, Isaac could tell he had not finished growing. He also found slight amusement in the fact Adrian was currently sporting the same side-swept ponytail as his mother, hair the same shade of blonde.

Adrian stuck out a hand once he reached the bottom of the stairs, the polite gesture accompanied by undisguised curiosity in his eyes. They exchanged greetings before Vlad gestured with the luggage he picked up.

"Let me show you to your room. We'll have dinner in about an hour, but you can rest or unpack, whatever you feel like."

0-o-0

Adjusting to the new timezone was rough, but Isaac felt his schedule worked well enough. Vlad and Lisa were always glad to help him gather necessities, run through school information, and show him around the area. He found them both charming and intellectually stimulating, something which immediately put him at ease in their conversations.

Adrian, as well, had been helpful in his own way. While he had his own preparations to make, he would answer any questions Isaac had and seemed perfectly content to be in the same room together without too much conversation. Isaac delighted to find the entire Țepeș family understanding of his occasional need for quiet.

He wished Adrian was attending the same school, but when asked, Adrian had said, "Father tutors me himself, in most subjects. Him and mother both, when she isn't working at the clinic."

Isaac thought for a moment before asking, "Pardon me if this is rude to ask but, what level are you learning at?"

Adrian smiled, one side of his mouth tilted more than the other. "It depends, I suppose. If I was in public school, I wouldn't graduate this year. But I know for a fact I'm much further on in a number of maths and sciences."

"I see. I believe that is the level I have been signed up for here." When Adrian squinted his eyes, Isaac huffed a laugh. "Yes, I think at eighteen, I would normally be one 'grade' higher. It's not exact. I am here to learn, but I am also here for the experience."

"I see," Adrian said. "Well, perhaps we should study together then."

"That would be most appreciated." Isaac felt a comforting, soft warmth uncurl in his body, and shared smile with his new 'brother.'

They then discussed possible schedules for before and after school times. Adrian was also taking some lower level classes at the community college nearby, so he could drop Isaac off at the school each day he had his college courses.

"I do have friends at the school, though," Adrian mentioned. "Perhaps you will meet them."

0-o-0

Hector was the first one he met. They shared multiple classes together, and Isaac found him pleasant enough. They both paid close attention during lectures, and when working on assignments, Hector easily moved between focused problem-solving and asking Isaac about his life. Of course, he was willing to share his own experiences as well.

"I have a little dog right now, Cezar. He's a pug, a rescue dog. You'd like him, I think. And, well, he loves everyone." He chuckled, lids falling over his eyes as he combed a hand through his wavy hair.

Cezar did, in fact, love him as soon as they met, the emotion clear in his one good eye. Though Isaac sometimes found Hector's curiosity grating, he respected his new friend, and found himself in an easy routine with him.

Sypha was the one he met next. About two weeks in, she had snuck onto the school grounds during a lunch period and abruptly introduced herself. While she was noisier than Hector, she had a certain brilliant charm which Isaac found he did not mind. She had met Adrian at the community college as a fellow homeschooler.

"He seemed awfully impressed with you, you know? And I said to myself, I said, 'I have to meet the person Adrian is complimenting!'" Her smile turned conspiring as she flopped down next to him, arm sneaking out from under her poncho to stage whisper, "He doesn't do that for just anyone. Not even our boyfriend, although I think that's their way of flirting."

Isaac did not see Sypha often, which he supposed was good. While he enjoyed her company, he was always left feeling exhausted just watching her boundless enthusiasm.

It took a month for Isaac to meet the final friend. Adrian had dragged him from the house for "cultural enrichment." Isaac was certain it was an excuse for Adrian to play some rhythm game he'd been fantasizing about for the past three days.

"Trevor has one at his house. How he got it, I don't know. I've learned not to ask." Adrian's tone was somewhere between exasperated and fond, the sort which only came with knowing someone intimately.

Isaac had to admit his surprise when he saw who opened the door. 

Unlike Adrian, who was always dressed in impeccably wrinkle-free, clean clothes, looking sharp and professional even in gentle cardigans, Trevor was... sloppy. It wasn't that he was unclean, Isaac noted with relief, but he could be the definition of grunge.

His fitted jeans were ripped in several places along the knees and thighs, and his wrinkled shirt--displaying some band logo--was haphazardly tucked in under a plaid shirt tied at his waist. As he ran one hand through messy hair and scratched the stubble on his jaw, Isaac wondered how Adrian could possibly be close with his polar opposite.

Trevor smirked, the first words out of his mouth a casual, "'Sup fangs? Here for my blood?"

0-o-0

"It's an old joke," Adrian later grumbled, all three of them settled in a room with a tv and several gaming systems. His tone turned pointed when he continued, "And it wasn't even funny the first time, Belmont."

"Yeah, yeah. Watch that sun patch there, I still haven't put up my curtains." Adrian scoffed, but Trevor was already turning to Isaac. "Met this guy in the middle of his emo vampire phase. Eyeliner, skinny jeans, belts everywhere, hot as fuck."

Adrian threw a pillow at him.

To make a huge understatement, Trevor was unlike Adrian's other friends. He was two years older, to start, and one grade above everyone else. He had some of Sypha's energy and teasing, but somehow managed to be more laid back about it. Isaac wondered if it was the constant lazy grin on his face.

While the general unkempt look and mellow attitude kept Isaac from noticing at first, Trevor was constantly checking on him.

"Anyone need more drinks?" he'd ask, and make eye contact with Isaac.

Or he'd throw a grin at Isaac when Adrian was talking about projects and say, "Now don't take any lessons about relaxing from him. His idea of breaks are passing out after ten straight hours of studying and test taking while hyped up on sugar and coffee."

"One time!" Adrian practically screeched, and pushed him over.

At the end of the visit, Isaac stopped at the front door and offered Trevor his hand. Trevor blinked, then took it, a bemused smile on his face.

"Right, I think I know why you two get along," Trevor said, and gestured at his boyfriend, already over by the car.

"And I think I am aware why he cares for you so much." Isaac felt a satisfied smile on his face as Trevor scratched his chin, embarrassment blooming across his cheeks.

0-o-0

Isaac leaned back in his chair, staring into the flames of the small fire pit. Nearby, Lisa laughed as she set yet another marshmallow on fire, rapidly charring the outside as she fought to catch her breath. As Vlad took over, blowing out the flames, Isaac smiled.

"Here." Isaac looked to the side. Adrian held out a metal marshmallow roasting stick, a fluffy morsel already skewered at the end. "Might as well try it once, right?"

Isaac took it, but only hummed as he stared the marshmallow down. He heard Adrian chuckle.

"You don't have to eat it."

"Then what's the point?" He saw Adrian point at his parents, grinning.

Lisa was still cracking up about her fourth crispy marshmallow of the night, Vlad sighing as he poked at it, apparently in some attempt to tell if there was anything good still underneath. They were closely snuggled together on their bench.

Isaac hummed again, then stuck his own treat out towards the fire.

Adrian ruffled through the nearby packages and shoved a graham cracker into his mouth. They stayed in companionable silence for a few moments, now both staring into the fire.

"I'm glad you came," Adrian said. "It's been fun."

"Yes." Isaac thought about all the people he now knew, all the people he could probably call friends, or even... even family. "I'm glad, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Woohoo! ୧༼✿ ͡◕ д ◕͡ ༽୨ Guys, thank you thank you for your comments and kudos! It was tough, but fun, and I learned a lot about Isaac, just like I hoped. Hurrah!  
> Hopefully, that means we can see more of him from me soon. Hehehe... ;3
> 
> But yeah, I accomplished everything I meant to with this little challenge, so I don't think I'll go back and do much editing. Maybe a little, but just minor stuff. (Update: Went back and fixed grammar and stuff.)
> 
> I have also learned I should stop working on 3+ projects at a time, and I'll actually make progress. ^^;  
> So thank you again, and I'll see you soon~!


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